October
by Jewcika
Summary: As a teen with superpowers, you learn to expect the worst. There's some things you just don't imagine, though, and those are the ones that remind you that you're still human. Angstfic/recovery fic, non-graphic themes of male rape. [NOT abandoned, on hiatus]
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **As a teen with superpowers, you learn to expect the worst. There's some things you just don't imagine, though, and those are the ones that remind you that you're still human, and that you just might not ever be strong enough after all. Angstfic, non-graphic themes of male rape.

**Warnings:** Nothing explicit, but this obviously deals with troubling themes such as rape. Will also feature heavy angst, depression, mild drug use, and eating disorders.

**Notes:** This was partly inspired and is pushed along by listening to Blue October, hence the double-meaning for the title and the tidbits of lyrics present at the beginning of each chapter. However, the idea mostly came because I got to talking to some people who've been through this kind of thing a few months back. I guess you can call this an awareness or survivor story. Also, Danny is sixteen in this.

I _hate_ writing in first person (ironic, considering I couldn't write in third person when I first started writing), but I felt it was necessary in this story. I suppose it's good practice, though. I'm also used to writing longer pieces, but this story will have quite short chapters. They'll probably be a relief, especially given the wearisome content, so no, they won't be getting longer.

That said, let's get on with it!

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><p><em>"In the day by day collision called the art of growing up, there's an innocence we look for in the stars."<em>

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

It happened on October 20th. Or, given the time, October 21st.

I grumbled under my breath as I made the long trek back to Fenton Works from Sam's house. The plan _had_ been to sleep over at her place with Tucker for a long night of watching gory movies in her basement, but her parents had kicked us out. So much for a nice, ghost-free Saturday night.

And, of course, I couldn't even fly back because of this stupid ring!

I loved my parents, but I really wished they'd find something else to do besides inventing things that made my life harder. After getting kidnapped by Skulker at school for the umpteenth time, Mr. Lancer apparently started to catch on for once and let my parents know about my little "problem" of ghosts always being after me with a vengeance. And, being the ghost hunters that they are, they'd whipped up this little silver ring with the Fenton seal that would repel strong ectoplasmic signatures.

At least it didn't work like the Specter Deflector. It didn't hurt me unless I used my ghost powers. Something about subtle ectoplasmic... stuff. I wasn't sure, it was kind of hard to pay attention when Tucker explained these things. But we had found out the hard way that I was, for the time-being, very much human.

Which, again, was the reason why I was walking the two miles back to my house on foot. At one in the morning. While it was thirty degrees outside.

I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself and looked up at the black sky. Looking to my left, I saw that I was passing by the big college parking lot I could probably cut through to take a couple of blocks out of my walk.

"Stupid ring," I muttered to myself through chattering teeth as I speed-walked under the streetlamps of the empty parking lot.

There was only one car there, an old Chevy, but as I drew close to it I noticed there was someone sitting inside. I felt a little uneasy glancing at what appeared to be a man inside, but I didn't dwell on it as I walked past it. At least it wasn't a ghost.

The sound of a car door opening made me tense, and out of instinct I stopped and looked behind me in a defensive stance. The man got down from the car, coming towards me, and I fleetingly noticed he was built almost like my dad. Thinner, but still tall and bulky. I mentally scolded myself for not having kept walking and looked ahead again. Before I could be on my way, he spoke up.

"Hey, you got a smoke?" he asked.

I shook my head, turning back to face him. I was surprised when I saw he wasn't even two feet away from me, now. I suddenly felt even more nervous because I couldn't see his eyes through the dark sunglasses he was wearing. Seriously, who wore sunglasses at night? "I don't smoke," I said.

He nodded, then asked, "Got any money, then?"

Alright, and the ultimate creep award went to...

"No, sorry," I answered.

Like some sort of sixth (or seventh) sense, I automatically knew what was going to happen before it did.

"You sure about that?" he growled out, taking two quick steps forward. He grabbed me by the collar of my jacket with one hand and held a handgun he'd drawn out of his pocket with the other. His breath smelled like some gross combination of alcohol and cigarettes, and I had to stop myself from gagging.

Awesome! The one time I didn't have my powers was the one time I managed to get mugged in the middle of an abandoned parking lot! Still, not feeling up to fearing for my currently very mortal life, I took out my wallet and practically threw it at him.

He let go of me, but he didn't point the gun away. The guy somehow managed to search through my wallet with one hand while still holding that stupid gun to my head with the other. He took out the measly ten dollar bill I had in there, but paused just when I thought he was going to let me go.

Again, he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, and I couldn't help but feel annoyed in the back of my mind. Fighting ghosts had really desensitized me to things like this, I supposed. Especially when this guy didn't even have supernatural powers or anything. Stupid thinking on my part, when I had no powers myself...

"Daniel Fenton? As in Jack Fenton's son?"

"Uh..." was all I could manage, caught aback by the crazy look on what I could see of his face.

"As in the Jack Fenton who blew up my house on Lincoln Street while chasing the ghost kid, and the reason I'm living in my car?" he snapped, disgusting specks of spit flying at my face. Oh, this was so not good.

Not good indeed. The guy moved so fast I didn't have time to react. He pretty much tossed me like a rag doll against the car and pinned me to the door. My breathing picked up and I looked at him with wide eyes as he pressed that gun hard against my temple. He looked so mad that I could easily picture him pulling the trigger, my brains splattering all over the car and the pavement. At that moment, it finally sunk in what kind of situation I was in. For the first time, I felt scared.

"P-Please! You d-don't have to do this," I whispered. I could hear my voice breaking out of fear. I'd never felt so vulnerable in my life, and after being Phantom for so long I never expected to. At least not against a human. Not like this.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten in my head in an attempt to remain calm, but when I opened my eyes the man's face was inches from my own. He had a crooked grin on his face. I couldn't help but stare back and felt my pupils practically trembling in my wide eyes.

A whimper slipped out when I felt the gun move, but the man only dragged the gun down my face until it was resting at my neck, leaving me to stare at it in dread. The change of target didn't make me feel any better.

I heard the guy chuckle and he said, words slightly slurred, "You know, boy... You have quite the face. Big doe eyes, girly little figure. Stick you in a dress and some might call you pretty."

What...? I didn't know what he was talking about, so I just knit my eyebrows and didn't say a word. I mean, there _was _still a gun being held under my chin, after all. I wanted to turn intangible, to hit the guy with an ectoblast, but chances were I wouldn't even get past reaching for my ghost core before I fell at this guy's feet getting shocked by the ring.

"I... Look, I d-don't even agree with hunting the ghost k-kid," I began, trying to keep my voice level despite the cold and how nervous I was. "I'm s-sorry about what happened to you, b-but killing me isn't gonna s-solve anything!"

The guy nodded, but his quiet unnerved me. Still, he'd nodded and he looked like he was thinking about what I said, so that had to be good news, right?

I saw his face come closer, and then all I could taste was beer and nicotine. The shock registered immediately and I began to writhe underneath him to try and get away from the disgusting _kiss_.

I couldn't even move under him, but I somehow managed to deck him hard in the cheek. The second he flinched aside, I took off running. I hadn't even gone three feet before I felt a hand grab me by the back of my jacket and throw me towards the car. I slammed into the side of the trunk stomach-first and felt the wind get knocked out of me.

Coughing and wheezing I shakily tried to stand up, but a strong hand pushed me down. My hands were crushed under me and his arm was pinning my upper body painfully against the flat surface of the trunk. Then I felt a fist hit me right in the middle of my back, making me cry out in pain. He hit me and kicked me I don't know how many more times while keeping me pinned down. I'd never felt more helpless. All I knew was that it freaking hurt, and my eyes were tearing up as I grit my teeth to bear it all before he finally stopped.

I could feel him behind me, his knees keeping my thighs pressed against the car. I was completely trapped. My breath caught as I realized that I was probably going to die tonight with no way to fight back.

In desperation, I began to struggle anew and screamed for help, not caring if he hit me again. I'd been dealt worse. A blow to the head with something hard made me stop against my will as everything went black for a fraction of a second. Disoriented, I looked to my right only to see that gun pressed against my head yet again.

"Shut up and don't move," he said gruffly.

I was on the brink of passing out, my breathing erratic and so many thoughts going through my head that I thought I would go crazy right there. This was Amity Park, this stuff didn't happen here! I was Danny Phantom, the town hero! I couldn't just get my head blown off in the middle of the Amity Park Community College parking lot!

I had to try to get out of this. As a last do-or-die resort, I tried to go ghost. The ring, though – that _stupid_ ring! A series of painful shocks went through me, leaving me flailing and trying to get my hands to move to rip off my ring finger if I had to, until an elbow to the back made me choke on my screams and left me panting between the car and my soon-to-be killer.

Suddenly, my ears picked up the sound of a zipper coming undone. I noticed the gun wasn't pointed at my head anymore, and then I felt the rustling of clothes behind me.

I froze. I literally couldn't move. My brain refusing to tell the rest of my body to cooperate, even as I felt him pull my hips back and reach for my belt buckle.

It finally dawned on me what was happening. He wasn't going to just kill me. He was going to rape me.

"No. P-Please! I d-didn't do anything to you!" I whispered, my voice strangled as the fear kept me from doing much else.

"Shut up," the man commanded in a frighteningly calm voice.

I felt freezing cold October air hit my bare skin, and I had to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat. "I s-save your ass on a daily basis! W-Why are you doing this!" I hissed, my tone sounding hysterical to my own ears.

He paused. I felt his breath right behind my ear from above me as frightened tears pricked my eyes. "_You_ brought the ghost menace here! _You_ looked for them and they came! What, you think what you and your family do is saving this town? Think it makes you heroes?" he said mockingly. "Look where you're at, little boy! You can't even save _yourself_!"

A dry sob was all that came out of my mouth in response.

He pressed the gun to my head loosely once again. A sick shock descended over me as I tried hard to stop the dizzying, hyperventilating breaths I was taking and the jumbled pleas I could no longer control spilling incoherently from my mouth. I felt tears spill from my eyes as that same shock continued to sink in.

I felt movement behind me. Then, I shut my eyes tight and braced myself.


	2. Chapter 2

"_I'm wishing the bath water clean, the dirt and ugly from the stain that they try to hide."_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

I held back a groan with every quick, sprinting step I took. I didn't stop to catch my breath, though. I didn't think about the glowing boxes I still saw flying over my head. I didn't think about how much everything hurt. I didn't even think about how the Box Ghost had probably just saved me from getting killed. I just kept running.

Somehow, I ran half the way that had taken me forever to walk, stopping only once after tripping over something. I barely stopped myself in time to keep from passing my front door, and shakily took out my key and unlocked the door on the fourth try. Then, I closed it quietly behind me and finally allowed myself to catch my breath.

I was incredibly glad that my parents weren't expecting me home. Honestly, I didn't think I could even deal with seeing another person at that moment, alive or ghostly. Then again, if I had just gone home in time for my curfew instead of wanting to stay at Sam's...

No. I concentrated on the feeling of my chest heaving up and down, which brought all the other aches in my body to my attention. My aching hands and arms, my ribs, the sore spots all over my back, my _splitting_ head. My insides.

Numbly, I felt the back of my head and touched a lingering wetness. In the pitch black living room, I could barely make out something dark all over my hands.

Then, I felt something else wet trickle down my leg. My mind jolted and my stomach churned, and I ran up the stairs as best as I could with the limp I suddenly had going. I barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up all the junk food I'd eaten in Sam's basement. My bruised ribs were on fire with the added pain of heaving into the toilet.

Once that was over, I did feel a little better, so to speak. A little better in that a sort of numb shock started settling in, and I didn't have to think at all. I just stared into the toilet like I was watching somebody else on a movie screen. I didn't even feel like I was really there.

Mechanically, I stood up and flushed, then made my way to the shower. What had just happened kept trying to push itself to the front of my mind but I stubbornly pushed it back as I turned on the water and jumped in, clothes and all.

The water stung the wound on the back of my head, and I let it. After a few minutes, I did get uncomfortable with all my soaked clothes sticking to me, so I took them off and threw them in the far corner of the tub.

There was filth collecting in a steadily building puddle under my clothes. Dirt and oil from hiding under the car while I waited for him to get hurt enough by the fast-flying boxes traveling from one end of town to the college campus.

I was naked in the shower, and I kind of started freaking out a little. I felt cold and I started shaking, so I turned the water up as far as it would go, trying to get back to that mindset I'd been in just now where I was kind of just watching myself. I hissed from the pain of the scalding water hitting my skin, but I didn't turn it down for at least a minute.

I felt my thoughts going far too fast for me to make sense out of any of them, so there was nothing for a while. And then I looked down to see blood running down my legs and into the drain. My breath hitched and I couldn't take it anymore. It suddenly felt like an ectoblast had just hit me in the face. I mean...

"Oh my god..."

I stood frozen under the hot water jet, staring at the drain as the water washed away everything and made the tile white again. But somehow, I couldn't stop seeing the dirt and blood all over the shower walls. All over my skin, knowing it was forever in the pile of clothes tossed behind me.

Breathing hard, I started to scrub myself as hard as I could. I think I went through half the bar of soap before I noticed I was sobbing. After that, it was all downhill.

I couldn't believe what had happened. That some stranger had just... Some man I'd never even... And when I hadn't...

A guy just didn't expect that kind of thing! Especially after all I did every day for Amity, to be good!

It was all over me. I wasn't even thinking about those moments, but about every other little sensation that had made them up. His smell, his raspy voice, his skin. Everything was screaming in my head, not able to believe he'd done that to me. But I knew he had because I could feel him everywhere. I could feel him tearing my insides apart still. Shivers climbed up my spine one after the other.

I could no longer breathe. I was sobbing hysterically, sliding down and curling in on myself, a filthy heap lying in the tub I had dirtied. I felt so sick, I wanted to throw up again, but I couldn't bring myself to get up so I held it in.

I shied away from the scalding water when it kept making every ache on my body even worse. I sat there panicking for however long, the bruised muscles on my hips and stomach sending new terror to my brain with every violent sob.

The water was running a bit cold by the time I finally calmed myself down and got out of the shower, watching everything in third person again and having every possible thought going through my head all at once. Everything seemed so weird, now, like the entire world had changed into something else.

I tried to take it steady but I kept stumbling and shaking while I moved around the bathroom. I pulled trash bags from under the sink and gathered up my dirty clothes in them, letting the water wash away the grime from the pile before shutting it off.

Wrapped up in a towel, I opened the door and looked out into the hallway. The dark had never really seemed foreboding or scary to me before, especially after getting my ghost powers, but it was intimidating at that moment. It made my bedroom door seem miles away.

Heart beating quickly and feeling ridiculous, I sprinted quick as I could across the hall and shut my door the second I was inside. Turning on every light in the room was next. I tossed the wet clothes bags inside my closet to forget about them for as long as I could, before I threw them out the next day. It didn't even matter that my favorite shirt was in there. I just wanted everything gone. I wanted to sleep and hopefully wake up at Sam's place after a night of movies and video games. To wake up having not been stupid enough to go through an empty parking lot, having not come across someone whose house I had destroyed by getting in my dad's way, having never been attacked by someone who'd hurt me without a single ghost weapon.

All of a sudden, I was scared as reality made itself known. What would happen now? In the morning, my mom would ask why I wasn't at Sam's, and would then lecture me about how dangerous it had been to walk home alone so late. Thinking about that innocent, everyday conversation made my stomach twist into knots with dread.

I didn't want to face anyone. I tried to be as quiet as I could while I rummaged through my drawers for clothes to change into, paranoid that my parents would hear me and walk right in and see me shaking like this. I felt that if someone were to walk in at that moment, they would automatically be able to tell. My whole body felt so gross, like one look at me would make it obvious and I really couldn't say a word of explanation. The long shower I'd just taken had done nothing to clean me. I could barely keep myself breathing, and I almost wished my breathing would stop completely.

How would I even handle myself in front of my parents tomorrow, in front of Sam and Tucker? How could I even go _outside_ when I didn't even have my powers and he was still out there? And if this had all happened so easily, what else could happen while I still had this ring on?

Everything I didn't want to think about kept running through my head as I got into the warmest pajamas I owned. Each thought made me more and more exhausted, mentally now as well as physically, dragging me down like literal weights. I left just my end table light on as I laid down and hid under the covers.

Right then, as I refused to give into the urge to cry again and as sleep weighed down on me, I decided I would try my damnedest to keep them from finding out. Yeah, I could do this. I could, I _had to_ keep a cool head, because they really didn't need to know. Besides just imagining the looks on their faces made me feel sick and scared. All of the consequences that would bring. They'd never look at me the same way again. And I wouldn't want anybody to worry. That's the last thing I wanted. I'd be fine.

And that was the thing going through my mind before I finally gave in to sleep much faster than I thought I would have.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Another page, a sullen rage, and I'll be back to my normal self."_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

The week after that night is a bit of a blur. I remember what I was doing but not all of what I was feeling. The next three days went by thankfully fast, yet there was still a painful crawl between being asleep and awake.

On Sunday, my resolve to be just fine and get on with it crumbled with all the aches that resurfaced along with the memories of last night. When my mom came in around noon and found me in bed, I made up something about getting dropped off early and kept my mouth shut otherwise so she'd go away. I didn't come out of my room except to shower and use the bathroom, and I faked being sick to avoid going back to school. I just left the ghost-hunting to Sam and Tucker during those days, saying I'd caught a cold while walking home.

On Wednesday morning, my parents barged in with all kinds of creepy devices and demanded that I be checked for a ghost virus. Finally, after getting scared out of my wits and some yelling, I had to drag myself out of bed and go to school. Apparently, I actually did look sick enough that my teachers were a little nicer than usual and I had a bit of a break. The whole day was just seven hours of staring blankly at teachers and avoiding Sam and Tucker. I wasn't sure why I was avoiding my friends, but I couldn't imagine seeing them or talking with them. It was as if I'd been thrown into a new, completely different life.

Thursday was even worse, starting with Sam and Tucker finally cornering me right before lunch. As always, Sam was less than gentle with her interrogations, and shoved my shoulder from behind while I was at my locker.

My sharp intake of breath was drowned out by her saying, "Hey, what's your deal, Danny? First, you disappear from school for two days and your mom says you don't want to see us. Then, you ignore us the one day you do come back! Don't think I didn't see you run away when I was walking towards you yesterday!"

I sighed but didn't turn around. "Sorry. I just had a busy weekend," I replied, though my voice sounded strained.

"You said you were sick, and your mom said you hadn't even been out of bed."

My locker door slammed loud enough to make a couple of people nearby stop to look at us, though I regretted it after it made my pounding headache even worse. "_Look_, Sam, I-"

"Hey, Fenton!"

"You've got to be kidding me," I hissed through gritted teeth as Dash came up to us. In all his jock glory, he sauntered over with Kwan on his right and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Looks like you missed your daily pounding these past few days!"

With a weary sigh, I decided now would be the best time to make a run for it, both from Dash and my nosy friends. Dash had other plans, though, as he quickly snatched the front of my shirt up and pinned me against the lockers before I could get the chance.

I could suddenly smell it so clearly, the alcohol and tobacco scent that had made me nauseous for hours as my back was slammed against the metal of the Chevy. I could feel the cold even through my jacket. No way out, not without my ghost powers, completely powerless and cornered like some miserable animal about to die. Next thing I knew, I was kicking and screaming at him, telling him to let go of me and get away at the top of my lungs, throwing punches everywhere, and drawing in even more of a crowd than before. I wasn't even thinking. I just lost control. All I knew was that I needed to get away.

And then he dropped me. As I picked myself off the floor, it took me a while to realize everyone had gone completely silent and was staring at me with wide eyes. My own eyes landed on my regular bully, and I saw that I'd at some point decked Dash – and hard, judging by the blood now pouring freely from his nose. He had his eyes shut tight in what was obviously pain, but Kwan was looking right at me with murder in his gaze.

Naturally, I didn't stick around to see what he'd do. I booked it, pushing people out of the way and turning every which way until I was away from people. Opening the door to one of my premeditated transformation spots, I huddled next to the janitor's mop and bucket as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

By the time Sam and Tucker found me, I was pretty hysterical. I scrambled to stand up when I heard the door open, knocking over some cleaning supplies, but when I saw who it was I slid back down to the floor and put my face in my hands. Painstakingly, I managed to breath a little more normally and stop those godawful half-laughs, half-sobs coming from my mouth.

When I heard them come closer, I tried to will them away without words. It obviously did nothing. All I wanted to do was disappear, but I couldn't because of the stupid ring. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even figure out how it was that I'd just felt like I was there again, or how I'd completely forgotten where I was. I didn't remember fighting against Dash – I was fighting against _him_. My breathing picked up again.

"Hey, calm down, Danny. It was about time that Dash-"

"Don't touch me!" I snapped as Tucker tried to put a hand on my shoulder.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, there was a stirring in my stomach. I pushed the two out of the way and scrambled for the door. I didn't even make it to the bathroom before I threw up into a trash can outside the room. Goodbye, breakfast. Fortunately, though, there was nobody in the hall to witness yet another Fenton spectacle.

"I guess he really _was_ sick, huh?" I heard Tucker mutter. Sam said something in response, but she said it too quietly for me to hear, since I was still busy dry-heaving.

A hand rested softly on my back, and I was about to throw it off again before I realized it was Sam's. For some reason, I relaxed. "You alright, Danny?"

"I wanna go home," I said in a raspy, quiet voice, my fists shaking around the rim of the trash can from the effort it was taking to stay composed.

"...Yeah. Sure. Come on, let's get you to the nurse. You can call parents."

Predictably, Tucker ran off with some stupid excuse as soon as Sam mentioned where we were going. I let Sam take my arm and lead me through the halls, barely able to stand on my own two feet.

Sam tried to make conversation as we walked, but I didn't answer. I could tell she was getting more and more frustrated with me. My head hurt and I was still nauseous, though, so I wasn't exactly concerned with her frustration. My mind wouldn't stop replaying things best left forgotten. A gun held to my head, dragged down to my throat, pinned with no powers. Pinned again, trapped, arms underneath me, fucked against the trunk of a car.

Someone elbowed me in the gut. I jumped, startled, only to see we were already at the nurse's office and everybody was staring at me. Everybody including Dash, who of course was also in there because of his nose.

"W-What?" I stuttered, and Sam sighed in annoyance.

"Danny," the nurse called, the worry on her face melding into something else. I was surprised to see her give me a bit of a smirk, and even more surprised to hear her continue in a clearly playful tone, "I was about to call you in to settle this."

Dash looked like he wanted nothing more than to choke me with the bloody rag he was holding up to his face.

I stared at my shoes and rubbed the back of my neck. "Look, I'm really sorry. It was an accident, I was just trying to get you off me!" I looked back to the nurse. "I didn't... break anything, did I?"

"As if you could, wimp!" came Dash's angry, congested response. Sam's grip tightened painfully around my arm until I finally shook her loose.

The nurse cleared her throat and shot a pointed look at Dash. "We got a few witnesses who told us what happened, Danny, so I'll trust what they said about this being unintentional. If you were sick, that must have had something to do with it, too."

"They're lying! He attacked me!"

"Mr. Baxter, I am neither your coach nor the vice principal. You'll get no special treatment in here, and I'll have you know I've had my fair share of students in here with injuries caused by you! I suggest you keep quiet!"

He didn't say anything else. While Sam snickered next to me, I just looked down in embarrassment. I wondered how bad it must have been for people to pin the fault on Dash. Had I freaked out that much?

"But anyway, your girlfriend said you wanted to call your parents to pick you up?"

"I'm not his girlfriend! / She's not my girlfriend," Sam yelled while I just kind of mumbled. I looked to my left and I could see her brows furrowed in concern. Sam was too smart not to know something was up by now. All the more reason to get out of here.

Trying to ignore her questioning eyes and Dash's threatening stare, I nearly tripped over my own feet getting to where the phone sat on the nurse's desk. She came back with a little paper cup of mouthwash and ushered me towards the tiny bathroom in the back before dialing my house.

Mom rushed me right back to bed when we got home, and I got another extended weekend, though not a very pleasant one. After three days of brooding, yelling at my parents to get out, leaving meals untouched, and avoiding all questions that came my way, they tried to drag me off to the doctor. Literally. My dad picked my up, threw me over his shoulder, and only gave up when I pitched a fit and swore I felt well enough to go to school on Monday.

I'm sure Sam and Tucker weren't reassured by my behavior over Monday and Tuesday. The weekend, and all the thoughts which wouldn't leave me alone during that time, had made me jumpy and irritable. I could feel my blood pressure rise every time someone dared ask a question or look at me weird. The fact that _everybody_ was staring at me after I'd punched Dash on Thursday just made everything _so_ much better, of course!

Ironically, all I could do during that time was keep from crying. There was a knot permanently in my throat. I was at my wit's end haunted by confusion and a crawling feeling constantly on my skin. And there were so many people around me, in class, in the halls, that my head felt ready to burst. I didn't even try to avoid Sam and Tucker, afraid they'd get even more suspicious than they already were, if that was even possible. I really don't know how I handled it without having a massive public meltdown.

It was a complete one-eighty from last week's numbness. I didn't understand why, I didn't understand at all. Nothing made any sense anymore.

On Tuesday, Sam finally got sick of me when I said I didn't want to go trick-or-treating. Tucker, convinced he could get the ring off me, invited himself over that night.

It was turning out to be a lousy Halloween. My parents, like every year, were out making sure ghosts didn't take the holiday as an excuse to bring on the apocalypse, and Sam was at one of her goth clubs for some special event. Back at Fenton Works, a horror movie Tucker had brought over was playing, though I wasn't paying enough attention to know what it was.

I was slightly annoyed Tucker had agreed to come over and hand out candy with me, even after I'd shot him down for trick-or-treating. To be honest, I was in no mood for anything. I'd been so depressed and angry, it was like Spectra was permanently hovering invisibly over my shoulder. Still, at the same time, it was nice to have some sense of normalcy, instead of being locked away in my room or getting stared down in the hallways. Listening to Tucker's incessant babbling and trying to act normal around him took things off my mind.

After an hour of Tucker trying to experiment on my parents' stupid ring with me still wearing it, though, I was starting to wonder whether I should just kick Tucker out to preserve what sanity I had left. On top of that, I had such a bad migraine that I could barely see straight. But at the same time, I was so desperate to have this thing off, I kind of just had to let him poke and prod at my hand even if I really didn't feel like being touched by anyone. I could feel every muscle in me was tense. I don't really understand how Tucker didn't notice, but I was grateful for his obliviousness.

"So they snapped it shut, then? Didn't slip it on?" Tucker asked and tugged painfully on the ring again.

"Ow! Yes, I said that like three times!" I exclaimed and jerked away from Tucker without really meaning to, but he didn't let go of my hand.

"Damn, it's way smaller than the knuckle. How is this not cutting off your circulation right now?"

"I don't know, Tucker! OUCH! Quit it!"

Finally, I yanked my hand away and scooted over to the far side of the couch. I didn't want to sit in front of the door and hand out candy. I just wanted to go to my room and lie in bed for the rest of the night.

Tucker held up his hands in a placating motion, and I instantly felt bad. "Hey, I'm just trying to help."

Sighing, I nodded and mumbled an apology. My thumb hovered over the silver and green metal of the ring, not quite touching it. The truth was that I felt weak and useless with it on, and it got worse with every day I had to wear it. With my thoughts slowly turning darker, I had to ask myself just how different it would really be with the ring off. I'd failed so many times as Phantom, after all. And it wasn't like I was being anything of a hero lately, what with abandoning my town hero duties because I was too terrified to go outside on my own.

Tucker sighed. "Man, if only you could tell your parents, huh?"

For some reason, that sentence stabbed at me, and I snapped at him. "What, so now you're rubbing it in that I haven't told my parents my secret?"

"I... No! Of course not!"

And I realized I'd done it again. I'd snapped at Tucker for the hundredth time that night, and I felt even more horrible.

I'm sure Tucker noticed something on my face then, because he closed his mouth before saying whatever he was going to say and turned to his PDA.

In a way, Tucker was completely right. If only my parents had known about my powers, then they never would have put that ring on me.

I realized, it really _was_ all my fault. It had all been because I'd lied to my parents, over and over, for the past two years. And if they were to find out what had happened, powers and all, they'd know it was my fault for being the world's biggest liar. They'd probably tell me I'd deserved what I got before dissecting me.

The realization made my insides grow cold. An sharp pain gripped me, emphasized by my killer headache, but I just sighed it off and sank further into the couch. I couldn't let it get to me. Not while Tucker was right there.

"I'm so close to just cutting my finger off or something. This thing's ruined..." I trailed off. Ruined everything. Ruined _me_.

The clicking of PDA keys stopped next to me, though I didn't look up from my lap.

"It's only been a couple of weeks. I'm sure we'll get it off, somehow," Tucker said. Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed my hand and started poking a safety pin into the ring. I couldn't help it – I jumped like a foot in the air, taking back my hand and almost falling off the couch.

"Whoa! Why are you so jumpy lately, dude?"

A glance his way told me he was starting to get seriously weirded out with me. Great.

I shook my head. "It's just... I don't feel as safe without my powers," I confessed quietly.

He laughed. "Welcome to the real world, ghost kid."

The doorbell rang before I could say anything. Tucker got up to answer it while I tried to get my heart to stop its crazy thumping in my chest. I was being so stupid, wasn't I? Letting out a shaky sigh, I brought my legs up to my chest and counted to ten. Eleven. Twelve.

"Thirteen."

I tensed, suddenly irrationally angry and annoyed and irritated and whatever other adjectives there were for it. I jumped to my feet, faced Tucker, and screamed, "Would you _stop_ counting every Danny Phantom costume you see?"

For the first time that night, even after I'd been blowing up on him for the past two hours, or more like two days, Tucker finally looked mad. "What's your problem, man? First, you won't talk to us or look at us the whole two days that you actually went to school last week. Now, you're biting my head off over every little thing! It's not my fault Sam wanted to have a _good_ Halloween and go to her goth club after you shot us down for trick-or-treating!"

"So I didn't want to go trick-or-treating! Just how old _are_ we, Tucker?"

"I don't know, Danny. How old were we when we agreed to go trick-or-treating two weeks ago?"

"What, I can't change my mind? I can't prefer to stay home instead of watching my parents terrorizing the neighborhood? You don't have to keep rubbing these things in my face!"

"Rubbing _what_ in your face? You're the one who's paranoid about nothing!"

What were we even arguing about? No idea, really. I guess I just felt like yelling. I wanted to break something. I wanted Tucker to hurt me for yelling at him, for being so useless since I got that ring put on me, for being a terrible friend, for lying to my parents...

Finally, something snapped in me and I felt all the adrenaline get washed away with those last thoughts. Something between a growl and a whine escaped me, and I let myself fall on the couch with my face smothered against the cushions. Some bruises that my repressed healing powers hadn't been able to take care of ached as I dropped down to lay on my side, and I had to keep down a pathetic whimper.

I didn't even realize Tucker had sat on the couch until I heard him speak somewhere by my feet.

"Look, Danny... I know I'm not the best at this listening thing **–** that's Sam's job – but I'm always here for you if something's going on. So... what's going on?"

I didn't say anything for the longest time, trying to measure the words in my jumbled brain. The offer was right there, to let things off my chest, to get some help in figuring out where to go from here and what had even happened because it still didn't seem real to me. Everything was wrong.

But when I tried to think about how that conversation would proceed, when I remembered flashes of the other night in terrible detail, I felt like dying. I felt something rip into me from the inside, making me panic and want to break down. I couldn't. I just wanted to forget, and this wasn't a way to.

I'd be better off if I didn't talk about it. I could pretend it had never happened and it would all just go away _eventually_, like that brush with my future self and the alternate timeline. If I told someone, the pitying looks would be there, and the worry would be there, and I'd never be able to get away from it. I'd never, ever be able to ignore it again.

Exhausted yet determined, I sat up and tried to look casual. "I think, maybe it's just this ring. I mean, I've just been feeling so _drained_ since I got it on. Things will probably get better once it's off, right? You don't even have to mess with it anymore. I'm sure there's some sort of key or pin somewhere in the lab. In fact, I'll get looking for that later tonight!"

He didn't look convinced. He had this frown on his face and he was looking at me with nothing but suspicion. I tried my best to keep my grin from looking like a grimace.

When the doorbell rang a second later, I was on my feet before the sound had even finished echoing through the house.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong> This chapter had be tearing at my hair so much that I just redid the whole thing. I'm not sure if it's better or worse now, but excuse the clumsy conjunctions and wording as I try to get back into writing in first person. Regardless, I think it was so difficult to write because it's the very initial stage – the first of Danny's reactions, and trying to get a feel for all that chaos is somehow harder than the later stages. Also, there is such frighteningly little research on male sexual assault. It's a sad thought.


	4. Chapter 4

"_And when crying isn't secret, it's the art of how we grieve."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

I pushed the food around my plate and sighed. Frowning, I realized I hadn't even registered what was in front of me this whole time. Spaghetti? Either way, I wasn't hungry. It had been almost a month since that night, two weeks since Halloween, and somehow everything kept going downhill. I hadn't even seen Sam and Tucker outside of school since... I couldn't remember, actually. But I knew they were both furious with me at this point.

I couldn't drag myself outside to hunt ghosts like I'd promised myself I would when I got this ring put on me, either. I'd tried, too many times to count, but I couldn't handle the panic of being out there at night with no powers to protect myself. Every shadow felt like it was going to come right at me. I'd never felt so helpless in my life, but going out in broad daylight for everyone to know Danny Fenton hunted ghosts just wasn't an option. Who'd have guessed, a ghost afraid of the dark?

"Honey, you haven't touched your food. Again. Is something wrong?"

I tensed when I heard my mom speak up, shrinking further into myself. I could feel her and Dad staring at me, accusing me. It was ridiculous, but I felt like they were looking at me with disgust. They didn't know anything, and I hoped it would stay that way, yet it was almost as if they knew _everything_.

"I'm fine. I just haven't been hungry lately," I made myself mumble and went back to pushing the food around my plate.

"Well, you should eat something, Danny!" my dad said. "You're a growing boy, after all!"

I looked up only to wish I hadn't. My dad had a grin on his face, but there was something off about it as it fell the second our eyes locked. I only glanced at my mom enough to register the open concern.

Against my protesting stomach, I twirled some pasta around my fork and forced myself to eat it. Looking up again, it was obvious my mom noticed my grimace as I swallowed the food down along with the knot in my throat.

There was an awkward silence, a tense table setting for the millionth time that week, and it was my fault.

"Sorry," I found myself whispering before I realized I'd even opened my mouth.

A hand on top of mine made me start, my hand curling into a fist as I tried not to pull it back, and then my mom was tilting my chin up to force me to look her in the eyes.

"What are you sorry for, Danny?" she asked softly.

I tore my gaze away a moment later. I just couldn't take looking at her sad, worried eyes like that. All my fault. "I don't know. Not being hungry, I guess."

"That's fine. That's what leftovers are for," she said and sighed. "But really, honey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I quickly retorted, forcing a smile onto my face and staring at a spot above her shoulder. "Seriously, Mom, lighten up. I've just been kind of tired lately."

My dad and her shot each other looks I couldn't read, then looked back at me.

"Danny, your mom and I have noticed you've been a little strange the past few weeks." He grinned crookedly. "Or stranger than usual, at least."

My _dad_ had noticed? So much for not being obvious, I guess.

Mom sighed again and let go of my hand at last. Good. While it had been weirdly comforting, it mostly made me nervous to have her touching me like that. Knowing.

"You've been really jumpy lately," she began, and Dad cut in with his arms crossed and a pout on his face.

"I said we should take another camping trip to get the stress out of you – that did the trick before! – but your mother shot me down."

She pursed her lips, shaking her head before continuing. "I know it's not just stress. I'm worried sick about you, Danny! You haven't been eating, I haven't seen you go anywhere outside of school, nor have I seen Sam and Tucker around as much as we used to, and there's been a couple of nights that I've heard you..."

I tried my best not to look like a deer caught in headlights. My mouth went dry. I had to look down again, too embarrassed to do anything but pretend they weren't both staring at me. She'd heard me crying. I barely held myself back from burying my head in my arms from how humiliated I felt.

It was suddenly a lot harder to say to myself that what happened was no big deal after my mom had told me she'd heard me crying over it at two in the morning. Boys did't cry. Heroes didn't break down. This wasn't supposed to be happening to me at all!

"Did something happen?"

She'd barely even finished her sentence when I jumped in. "No! No, of course not! What would even happen to me, Mom?"

Okay, so my reaction obviously didn't make things any better, judging by the look on her face and the way her eyes narrowed.

The awkward pause in the conversation was starting to get to me when my dad spoke up.

"It's not ghosts, right?" Of course he'd come to that conclusion first. "How's the Compact Specter Deflector working out?"

I glared, a white-hot anger suddenly taking over. "It's not," I said. Or more like I hissed it with the sudden pain that stabbed at my chest.

Honestly, having this ring on made me feel like I was suffocating, like I was getting crushed by its weight. I couldn't bear thinking about it, because then I had to think about the one night I'd needed my powers most. A month without powers, a month of being weak and defenseless, a month of ghosts taking advantage of my absence, a month of being completely useless.

I could sense my parents giving each other looks and realized the way I must have sounded. I got scared again, of how much I must have let through with those two words. What they must have heard in my voice, what they could figure out after that. The ring seemed to burn on my finger as if the metal had been left in the fireplace.

Then, I heard my mom sigh. "Danny, I know you don't like some of the decisions we make when it comes to ghosts, but it's for your own safety. The ghost problem's been getting a bit worse than usual lately, especially at your school, and we wouldn't want you hurt."

Tears pricked at my eyes when she said that, but I quickly blinked them away. "Too late," I whispered harshly.

"What was that, sweetie?"

"Didn't you ever think to ask me if I wanted another one of your inventions forced on me?" I found myself spitting out in a scathing tone as I angrily pushed my barely-touched plate away from me.

"Relax, kiddo," my dad cut in. "It's not hurting you!"

God, I was sick of irony. "No, Dad! Why is it always _me_ that you guys have to test your stupid, faulty -"

"Danny, that's enough!" my mom interrupted in a tone that made me flinch. "This is not up for discussion! Those 'stupid, faulty' inventions of ours are what generates income for this family! Not to mention, you get in enough trouble with ghosts as it is, and the Specter Deflector is staying on so we can all have peace of mind!"

Why was everything so _wrong_? Suddenly, I wanted to tell them everything. I wanted to tell them what they had done to me, that I was Phantom and this ring had ruined my life. I wanted to see the looks on their faces when they realized I could've defended myself, but the ring had stopped me. I held it all back, though. Instead, I stood up and demanded they take it off in the strongest voice I could muster.

My mom's eyes narrowed, obviously mad. I didn't even know what I was feeling. I was mad, too – _so_ mad – but with that look she was giving me, I also felt horrible. None of this was their fault, it was _mine _for never telling them the truth. For destroying that guy's home in that fight, even. Yet at the same time, it had been because of them.

"The Specter Deflector stays on," she stated as she stood up as well, her tone holding no room for arguments. "Go to your room, Danny, since you're not hungry anyway."

I was gone, at the end of my metaphorical rope. I didn't want to be there arguing with my parents about a piece of metal, but I just couldn't take it anymore. My parents' words about safety, my mom's stubbornness, the crawling feeling I couldn't shake off as a part of me screamed from feeling their eyes so intently upon me.

I ached with longing to go to my room as I'd been told, but I stayed rooted and looked down at my shoes. I knew everything would be back to normal once they took the damn ring off. It would all be alright, I'd have my powers back, and I could forget about what had happened for good. I could be strong again.

Backing down now wouldn't do me any good, and I just _couldn't_ keep going like I had been for the past couple weeks. I thought of the dreams I'd woken up from in a sobbing mess – where it happened all over again, but this time he shot me in the face after he was done. Where I turned into Phantom and _I _shot _him_ in the face. Then in my waking life, looking around corners with my heart in my throat and jogging to my destination whenever I was alone, practically barricading my bedroom door when I got home and my parents were out, the fear of simply taking out the trash at night. It was unbearable, and I really couldn't take it. I was done, and very desperate.

"You have to take it off," I choked out and felt my Adam's apple shaking from nerves. "I'm not leaving until you take it off. I want it _off_!"

"What has gotten into you?"

"_You_ did, when you put this stupid thing on me!"

She gawked at me while my dad frowned in what I hoped was just confusion.

"Go to your room, Danny! I'm not going to say it again!"

"Not until you take this off!"

This kept going for a while. She and I pretty much just recycled the same lines while my dad stood awkwardly in the sidelines of our escalating fight, unable to get a word in. She kept getting more angry in a way that would've terrified me had I not been at my wit's end about feeling like this because of their invention.

"Danny, what is this really about? It's ridiculous! I want to know why you want the Specter Deflector off so badly before I'll even think about taking it off!"

I opened my mouth to respond but she had kind of stunned me with that. I knew why I wanted it off, but I couldn't tell her that.

The answer I first came up with surprised me, actually. Sure, I wanted my powers back to keep the ghosts at bay – it had been hard on everyone as ghosts took advantage of my hiatus lately – but my first answer was actually that I wanted to feel strong again. Safe. And that only made me feel selfish because, for a fleeting moment, I honestly felt like the town's safety didn't matter as long as I could protect _myself. _What was wrong with me? Had I really been messed up that much, that I was a lousy hero and person now? Had he... it really ruined me that badly?

I unconsciously brought my arms up and wrapped them around myself. I could feel my nails dig into my bare arms, but I couldn't feel any pain from it. All I felt was trapped, with this ring, with my parents constantly watching me, and with myself. I wished that I was someone else, that I could crawl out of this used skin and forget. All I wanted was to forget and get on with my life just like I told myself I would, like I told myself every morning when I woke up, like I failed to do within hours every single time I told myself all that with such dumb determination.

"I... I'll go get the key for it, Danny."

I shook my head to bring myself back to the conversation as I heard my dad speak. I'd just zoned out, I guess. Thoughts raced through my head so quickly I couldn't stand it, almost like white noise. Then, I finally processed the words and stared at him without really knowing what I was feeling. He had the most worried look I'd ever seen on him.

From across the room, I realized my mom looked less angry now, and just as worried as my dad. Tired, even. She looked at him disapprovingly, but then walked around the table towards where I was.

I backed away from her like a scared animal as my mind made a show of jumping to conclusions. What had just happened here? Could they tell from my face? Had I said something without realizing it?

Something wet slid down my cheek, and I froze. Every one of my limbs was shaking uncontrollably on top of that, with every loud breath of mine that I took through my mouth shaking just as much. My face felt hot with embarrassment and I closed my mouth, finally understanding why my eyes had been burning so much.

"Baby, something is very wrong. Please, just tell me what it is," she pleaded in a desperate, soft voice, putting her hands on my shoulders, though she backed off when I jerked violently in her hold. It almost looked like it physically pained her not to touch me.

The thought of my mom coming into contact with something so dirty through me was the only thing that kept me from jumping into her arms right there. I wanted to so badly, to just be comforted by her and hug her and take that worry off of her face. She was my mom, of course there was a secret part of me which wanted her to baby me.

I'd lied to her, though. I'd been lying for two years. I had been stupid and gotten myself into all this, all on my own. I didn't deserve her comfort. Those same looks of realization on them that I'd imagined earlier jumped into my head again, but this time they only brought pain and guilt instead of sick satisfaction.

"Nothing's wrong," I mouthed more than said, feeling my voice would dissolve into sobs if I said it any louder. I only saw my mom's pained look out of the corner of my eye, but it still made me feel bad.

"Danny, that's not true, and we both know it."

Turning my face further away, I wiped furiously at my eyes and sat down at the table just as I heard my dad come up the lab stairs.

I distracted myself by thinking about how everything would be back to normal in just a few minutes. It worked, and I eagerly stuck my hand out on the table, waiting impatiently for my dad to get the horrible piece of metal off of me. I was going to get my powers back! I could move on and completely forget about all this. The past couple weeks didn't matter, because I was going to be just fine The thought made me feel incredibly happy for the first time in a long time.

"There," my dad said and slapped the ring down on the table.

I blinked and stared at it in confusion. He'd taken it off and I hadn't even noticed? What about that feeling of a weight being lifted off my shoulders? Sure, I could feel that sudden spark of energy come back to life, that coldness just under my skin that told me my ghost powers were right there and fully functional. But...

It wasn't even possible for me to identify what I was feeling. I just knew it wasn't good. Part of it was a crushing disappointment, and I didn't know why. What had I been expecting?

I still felt the same. Nothing had noticeably changed. That wasn't what I'd been expecting, at least. I wasn't expecting _nothing_.

I still felt just as angry and stressed, just as dirty and guilty. What I really couldn't understand, though, was why I still felt _scared_, even with my ghost powers back!

Picking the ring up gingerly from the table, I turned it in my fingers with a nauseous feeling in my stomach, then dropped it. I wanted to die.

I mumbled a quick thanks and quickly ran up the stairs before I could break down or lose the lunch I didn't eat in the middle of the kitchen. My parents knocked and knocked, but I didn't come out for the rest of the night.


End file.
